


troublemaking at breakfast

by zigsexual (anythingbutloud)



Series: hogwarts au [3]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts AU, M/M, yet again a ficlet with vaguely discernible plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutloud/pseuds/zigsexual
Summary: the hogsmede debrief and dear god — why are these three friends.
Relationships: Liam/Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Series: hogwarts au [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917403
Kudos: 4





	troublemaking at breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> breakfast antics in the great hall, you know everyone in gryffindor hates them

“Stop staring at him,” Maxwell whispers, elbowing Drake in the ribs. “You’re so embarrassing.”

Drake elbows him back, frowning into his food. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Should I call him over?” Maxwell grins. Drake shoots him the deadliest look he has, but it’s no match for Maxwell’s self destructive streak. He sits up on his knees, waving one hand in the air. “Liam! Hey, Liam!”

“I will fucking hex your entire family,” Drake seethes, grabbing at the edge of his sleeve in an effort to yank him back down. All he manages to create is a scuffle that lasts approximately until Riley plops down across from them at the table and sighs. “Oh, Christ, you two. Not today.”

“Maxwell started it,” Drake huffs, crossing his arms and scowling in Maxwell’s direction. He’s returned to his food, dramatically buttering a breakfast roll in the way only he can.

“False,” He points at Drake with the butter knife. “You started it by being in love with that Ravenclaw.”

“I am not —“

“Wait! That reminds me.” Riley looks smug, leaning towards Maxwell with her chin in her hands, elbows on the table in direct violation of dining hall etiquette. “Guess what we found out? Hot Prefect is staying for holiday.” 

Maxwell pauses, the roll halfway to his mouth. “No way. Does Drake know?”

“I’m right here,” Drake complains, “And for fuck’s sake, stop calling him that.”

“It’s an accurate descriptor,” Riley shrugs, leaning back and flicking her hair over her shoulder. “He’s hot, and he’s a prefect. Not everything’s about you, Princess.”

Maxwell still has his gaze trained on Riley. “You think he’s hot?”

“Um, duh.” She makes a face at him. “He is. Are you blind?”

“I just didn’t know you thought that.” Maxwell seems to have forgotten his roll entirely now. “That’s your type? Goody two shoes?”

Riley raises an eyebrow. “That’s rich, coming from you. Care to remind me who you went on a date with yesterday?”

“It wasn’t a date —“

“It was two people alone in a pub together, what kind of world do you live in where that doesn’t qualify as —“

“We weren’t alone, everybody else was there, even you were there, which is weird in the first place because —“

“Are you gonna eat that?” Drake interrupts, pointing towards Maxwell’s forgotten food. 

“What?” Maxwell turns back towards Drake, then looks down at his plate. “Yes. Don’t touch my food.”

Drake reaches across and takes his roll, biting into it without breaking eye contact. 

Maxwell stares at him for a moment, then pulls out his wand. “Accio bread!”

“Maxwell,” Riley looks horrified, “What the fuck are you doing? That’s not even —“

A girl at the other side of the table lets out a tiny shriek as a whole basket of rolls lifts up and soars towards them at a speed no food should ever travel at. Both Drake and Maxwell duck as it careens overhead, peeking over the table in time to see it collide with the side of Riley’s face before tumbling unceremoniously onto the floor. 

“Max!” Riley seethes, grabbing at her wand with a flash in her eyes. But before she can even open her mouth to cast a spell, one of the supervising professors appears behind her and deftly plucks the object from her hands. 

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” He announces, scowling at her and Maxwell. “And I’ll make that twenty if I see any more nonsense from either of you today.”

A groan rises up from the rest of the table, the other students looking on in annoyance as the professor sets Riley’s wand in front of her and begins walking away. 

“Nice going Brooks, you fuckup,” someone mutters.

Maxwell twists in his seat to find the offending speaker, sitting up on his knees once he’s spotted him. “Hey! Don’t talk to her like that, or next match I’m hitting a bludger right up your ass, Rashad — house loyalty be damned.”

“Beaumont,” the professor’s voice snaps, still within earshot. “Watch yourself.”

Maxwell sits down, flashing an innocent smile. “Watching, sir.”

And watch they do, making sure all authority figures are firmly out of their sphere of influence before they start up again. Drake takes the opportunity to finish off Maxwell’s roll. 

“Thanks for the defense,” Riley finally says, once the coast is clear. “But you know I’m perfectly capable of hitting my own bludgers.”

Maxwell nods. “Oh, I’d never insult your prowess on the field. I just really hate that guy.”

“You know,” Drake remarks, “if either of you spent as much time deflecting the bludgers as you do purposefully aiming them, I might not have to spend so much time in the infirmary. Just food for thought.”

“Or maybe you could just get better at Quidditch,” Riley smiles, plucking a piece of bacon off his plate and eating it. “What a concept.”


End file.
